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But here’s the kicker—some asshole last week, he’s all, “Just a back rub, bro,” and I’m like, fuck off, you ignorant prick! Sexual-massage ain’t no PG-13 bullshit—it’s primal, it’s “fill me with your absence” from *Blue*, that ache you can’t shake. I’m lyin’ there, she’s teasin’ every nerve, and I’m happy as a pig in shit, thinkin’, “This is it, this is the greed I live for!”—more touch, more heat, more everything. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Felt like I owned the world for 60 minutes.

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You gotta wander down South Main St. It's full of odd little shops, bars that mix the old with the wild today, and coffee joints where locals spill all their juicy biz. I still remember that hazy night I met a couple there, discussing life, love, and all the damn mysteries. I told ‘em, “You shall not pass!”—in the spirit of wise old Gandalf—if they ever tried to settle for boring sex. Lol, epic moment.

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